


Mr. Lehnsherr is ill today

by a_q



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Divorce, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-29
Updated: 2012-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-30 07:50:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/329481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_q/pseuds/a_q
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for kink meme prompt bringing up the idea how alpha/omega pair might function after a separation, if the heat was only manageable with the fixed mate.<br/>Alpha!Charles and omega!Erik.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mr. Lehnsherr is ill today

”You have to help me,” Erik said, the request forced through the clenched teeth. ”The clamp. Do that again. Stop my mind. Please.”

Emma looked around, counting the empty bottles. Cheap vodka mostly, by the look of the labels. He grasped at straws now. 

”You know I can't clamp you at this point. You are too far gone,” Emma said. ”Stop fighting the inevitable.”

”No!” Erik shouted, and grabbing a hold of the rickety chair, in attempt to pull himself up from the floor. ”I don't need him! I don't...” His hold slipped and he fell back down. Emma sighed. This was not the best part of her job. 

”There is always Mystique,” Emma suggested, even though she knew that wouldn't go over much better. She dodged easily the empty bottle he threw at her. 

”No one else can know!” Erik bellowed, and rolled to his back. Emma glanced up at the ceiling, the pattern of water stains. Not that the sight of naked men bothered her, but she preferred to keep this image out of her mental register. 

”I'll go call him,” Emma said firmly and turned around, ignoring his garbled protests. She dashed out, across the dusty street shimmering in the mid-afternoon heat to use the phone in the little bar around the corner. The line was shaky, but Emma got their address across eventually. She sweet talked the owner to give her a bucket of ice, before running back to the apartment. She didn't like heat. Or dust. 

The ice on the bucket melted into water, and the water warmed up to the room temperature before Charles arrived. In her diamond form she couldn't detect his mind, so she startled when he walked in the room. 

“You left it to the last minute this time,” he said, and without telepathy, Emma had no idea if he blamed her or if he simply stated a fact. She shrugged, the light creating prisms on the walls. Erik moaned when she moved, his head resting cradled in her lap as she pressed a wet towel on his forehead. He muttered something in German, the hallucinations taken a hold of him an hour ago. 

Charles sighed and unbuckled his belt, kneeling on the floor, opening Erik's legs. Emma turned to look at the ceiling. The water stain looked like a frog eating a sparrow. 

“You didn't clamp him?”

“He asked too late. And you forbid me to do it without permission. I could've helped him, you know.”

Charles grunted softly, and for a moment there was no other sound than the muted slap of damp flesh. Erik's head jerked rhythmically with the thrusts. He muttered something, but this time Emma couldn't say what language it was. Charles gasped quietly and the slapping sound intensified. 

Emma started recalling the decimals of pi, and she got to the hundred and tenth, before Charles let out the breathy moan that meant he had finished. Emma looked down to Erik. His eyes were closed and he still muttered something, but his color looked better. 

“Glad to hear that you are smart enough to follow my wishes,” Charles said, sounding out of breath.

“Even if it means he ends up like this, over and over again?”

“Even if. Flip him over, I don't have all day.”

Emma did as he asked, and though Erik was practically dead weight, it was nothing to her in diamond form. She pulled Erik further over her knees, so his chest had proper support and it would be easier for him to breath. She pressed the damp cloth over his neck this time, stroking his hair absentmindedly as she returned to stare at the ceiling. Now the stain looked like a squirrel fighting a rabbit. 

Charles panted, the smack of flesh louder when he didn't bother holding back. Erik jerked roughly and Emma held him tighter to stop him from sliding off of her lap. She recited Shakespeare this time and she got four sonnets down before Charles groaned. 

“All done?”

“You tell me.”

Emma leaned down, listening. Erik was quiet, his skin cool under her hand. He didn't move, and his eyes seemed to be closed still. 

“Getting there. One more?” 

“Fine. How is _your_ love life these days, Ms. Frost?”

“All quiet in that front, Mr. Xavier. Work keeps me busy, as you know.”

Charles thrust back in Erik's loose body, the sound wetter, more obscene after two successful rounds. He plodded away, breathing heavily. Emma was glad for the shield her diamond form created against this, for she was only forced to bear the sound of it, but not the smell, or touch or the slosh of emotions. Before she could dwell deeper in the philosophical ramifications of the nature of emotions, Charles stilled and finished, hands digging on Erik's hips. Emma turned her eyes again, feigning ignorance how the touch turned to caress for one fleeting moment. 

Charles pulled away, getting back up and fixing his clothing. Emma checked on Erik again. His breathing was steady, his temperature normal and his eyes fluttered open and closed. He would come around soon, the heat dissipating. 

“And you will let me know if he gets...There is ramifications?” Charles asked quietly. 

“Of course, that is our deal,” Emma said, turning to look at him. He was a handsome man, but he seemed tired, and worn out. Emma didn't blame him. He couldn't win. Nobody could win here. “I'll call you.”

“Don't wait this long the next time,” he said. “Thank you, Ms. Frost.”

“Thank you, Mr. Xavier,” Emma replied and waited until she heard the front door closing before turning to Erik. “Up to bed, you. Tomorrow is a work day.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [мр. Леншерр заболел](https://archiveofourown.org/works/582412) by [Amorph](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amorph/pseuds/Amorph)




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